


pumping iron

by flirtingwithtrackers



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Smut, Sweat, so much sweat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-31
Updated: 2015-02-09
Packaged: 2018-03-09 19:37:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3261881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flirtingwithtrackers/pseuds/flirtingwithtrackers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>for anon prompt: "Clarke and Bellamy, work out together, then things get even steamier... Crappy jokes about body building, etc. are scattered throughout"</p><p>"Bellamy’s running behind her, his earphones in and his eyes glued to her ass. He can even see beads of sweat drip down her bare back, disappearing as they hit the waistband of her shorts."</p><p>or, bellamy and clarke finish their “workouts”--together--at his place</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> HI HELLO MORE SMUT FROM ME
> 
> warning in advance, i know absolutely nothing about working out, so i am sorry for any mistakes in that department
> 
> as usual, i hope you enjoy :)) beta-d by [lackingstealth](http://lackingstealth.tumblr.com) on tumblr.

He pulls her into his apartment, pushing her back against the closed door, lips already on her neck. His hands slide up her sides, resting on the bare skin of her hips. He lightly drags his teeth up the side of her neck before biting her earlobe, tugging on it. His warm breath caresses the skin under her ear. “My name’s Bellamy, in case you want something to scream later,” Clarke can practically hear his smirk.

Clarke presses forward, her breasts pushing up against his chest. That’s when she kisses him, her lips pressed heatedly to his. He grunts into the kiss as her hands explore his bare chest, fingers digging into the toned muscle there. Her nails run down his pectorals and Bellamy hisses. Clarke feels him lower his hands, grabbing her ass. His fingers are so long that they past the hem of her short work out shorts, pressing into the soft skin below them. Clarke takes the opportunity to jump up, wrapping her legs around Bellamy’s waist and he easily accommodates for the movement, strong arms holding her in place. 

She breathes into his ear as he walks them into his bedroom, “You’re going to have to earn my name, so I’d get to work.” 

Bellamy unceremoniously drops her into his mattress. “Alright, Princess,” his voice a low chuckle.

Bellamy climbs onto the bed, pressing his weight down into her, lips once again exploring the skin of her neck. His hands grab at her breasts through the thin material of her sports bra. Her skin tastes salty, covered in dried sweat. Bellamy’s lips slowly travel down her neck. He dips his tongue into the hollow of her collarbone before moving the strap of her bra to kiss her bare shoulder. His teeth sink into the flesh of her shoulder and Clarke moans in surprise.

Smirking, _the ass_ , Bellamy continues on his trail downward, kissing down her lean stomach, hands pressing into the mattress to keep his weight off of the small blonde underneath him. He lifts up to tug her shoes off, kicking his own off as well, before grabbing at the elastic of her shorts and pulling them down.

Bellamy takes a moment to appreciate the view he has, standing at the end of his bed. Clarke’s skin is flushed, her eyes dilated and her lips parted. Her blonde ponytail is spread above her head, the afternoon light coming through his curtains turning it a glowing gold. Her fair skin contrasts with the dark material of her underwear. Her breasts are pushing up against the material of her bra, rounded and soft, begging to be released. Once he drinks in the beauty that is this stranger he just met, he leans back in to strip her of the last of her clothing, tugging down his own shorts for good measure.

Clarke watches with hooded eyes as Bellamy kneels onto the bed, head lowering to press a hot, open-mouthed kiss to her thigh. His hands brush up the insides of her thighs as they push her legs open. Clarke would love to see what that devious mouth of his could do, but she tugs on his hair, dragging him up.

“As much fun as that would be, I need something else right now,” Clarke pushes her fingers under the waistband of his boxers and starts pushing them down until Bellamy helps her, stumbling out of them in a hurry. Clarke can feel him hot and heavy on the inside of her thigh, next to her core. She breathes in sharply, anticipating the feeling of him inside her. His hand disappears out of her view above her head, before coming back with a foil packet. Once the condom is rolled on, Bellamy hovers over her, his cock settled between her legs.

Clarke thinks she hears a soft, “Ready?” come from his lips and she nods furiously. He pushes into her and she gasps as he fills her.

Bellamy groans at the feeling of her around him. He pulls out almost completely before pushing back into her, starting a slow and antagonizing pace because this girl is _amazing_ and Bellamy wants to make it last as long as he can. Apparently, she has different plans.

“More,” Clarke moans into his neck as she wraps his legs up around his hips, determined to make him thrust into her faster. Her heels dig into his ass and he presses deeper into her. She cries out, “Yes, again.”

 _Well, she knows what she wants_. Bellamy thrusts in harder and faster, the moans increasing in quantity and volume, and he’s pretty sure the neighbors can definitely hear them (not that he particularly cares). The moment that Clarke licks up the side of his neck and starts sucking on his pulse point as he drives back into her, Bellamy is _very_ glad he brought this girl back to his place.

***

Clarke works out every Sunday morning. She’s using a hip abductor/adductor machine today, pushing her thighs together against the weight, legs slowly reopening before starting all over again, when a rather attractive man sits down at a machine across from her. His dark skin is stretched over lean muscle, slicked in sweat from recent exercise. The dark, curly hair at his temples is also wet with sweat, sticking to the skin there. The man is shirtless, probably unashamed and quite proud of his physique, _as he should be_. 

Bellamy had been admiring her ass bounce up and down in those small little shorts of hers as he ran behind her on a treadmill earlier, her ponytail swinging back and forth behind her. Her workout shorts, _if that’s what you could even call the thin material barely covering her ass_ , even matched her sports bra, both black with little lines of a bright pink decorating the sides and hems.

Bellamy’s running behind her, his earphones in and his eyes glued to her ass. He can even see beads of sweat drip down her bare back, disappearing as they hit the waistband of her shorts. Eventually, she slows down, her lean legs easing into a fast walk and Bellamy realizes she must be warming down. She had been there before him and he was reaching the middle of his workout by now. He sadly watches her walk away, blonde ponytail following her out.

The base of his usual machine is now sitting in front of him and Bellamy sees the blonde again, working her hips on that godforsaken machine made to drive him insane. Even though the machine is in his line of sight, Bellamy can see the blonde beyond it, only having to tilt his head a little to the right to see her. He looks at her then, sees her face instead of her beautiful, rounded ass. And she’s _hot_ , even covered in sweat after running what was probably fives miles.

Clarke knows she’s already covered in sweat and probably still a little red in the face, the apples of her cheeks pink and dewy. She can feel some of her hair plastered to her neck. The baby hairs that have fallen out of the ponytail she tied her hair up in this morning stick to her skin. The front of her sports bra is visibly soaked through, an unfortunate stain circling her neckline a result of her earlier cardio. Regardless, this man looks at her like she has something he wants, his eyes trailing down her figure before looking her in the eye.

Refusing to back down, Clarke stares back. He finally looks away to add more weight to his reps. Clarke waits until he’s looking at her again before adding more weight to her own.

Bellamy chuckles as he realizes that this woman is trying to compete with him, or at least keep up, and he has to admit _he’s intrigued_. Most women are flushing and staring down at their laps right about now. But not her. She’s looking straight at him as she spread her legs open as far as she can, the pads on the machine pushing into the creamy skin of her thighs. They’re playing this game of chicken, it seems, waiting for the other to look away first. He may be the first to walk away from their game, but Bellamy sure doesn’t lose.

She’s almost done with her third (and last, _thank god_ ) set of reps when she looks up to see the man is no longer there. Clarke stops herself from searching the gym for him. She’s accepted that she’ll probably never see him again when she’s sees familiar tanned skin to the left of her. He’s wiping down his neck with a green towel. 

“How many sets do you have left?” Clarke isn’t surprised to hear the deep voice next to her, though those weren’t exactly the words she was expecting.

Clarke stares up at him until he clears his throat and she realizes he asked a question.  “I’m done, just let me clean up,” she mutters as she climbs off the machine, getting out her towel and wiping it down.

She smiles up at him before turning to walk away when she feels a hand wrap around her forearm. The man pulls her back towards him. “I actually came over for you,” he says, his voice low.

Clarke actually chuckles, because this guy is really trying to pick her up at the _gym_. Although, looking at him, she wouldn’t doubt it hasn’t work for him before, with those cheekbones. Even covered in sweat, he’s still unfairly attractive (maybe even more so).

“And what do you want with me?” Clarke asks with her own smirk, her hand going to rest of her hip.

The man smiles at her, his grin widening, as Clarke’s eyebrow quirks up. “For you come back to my place where we can finish our workouts together. It’ll be a lot more satisfying, I can assure you,” his eyes are full of challenge.

Clarke wants to say no, dismiss him, just to see that smirk fall off his face, but she actually considers it. He is _smokin’ hot_ , Raven would never forgive her if she knew she turned down a guy with abs like his. And she may, or may not, want to hear just how low that husky voice of his can go.

She holds her hand out to him. He looks down at it in confusion before nodding and grabbing his phone out of the holder strapped onto his upper arm and placing it in her hand. She hands it back, “Text me the address, I’ll be there in 15.” Clarke walks away before he has a chance to reply. He sends a quick text to his newest contact “C.”

Yeah, Bellamy _definitely_ wins.

***

In retrospect, Bellamy should have known she’d be like this, taking exactly what she wanted from him. The way she competes for power even though she’s splayed out underneath him. Her mouth is on his neck, sucking marks that he’ll probably see later after she’s already left his apartment. Bellamy lets out a groan as her nails run down his back, grasping for more, commanding it, the _more_ pressed into his Adam’s apple.

The blonde’s breath hitches and she throws her head back into the dark sheets on his mattress. Bellamy moves his hand in between them, his thumb pressing down on her clit, rubbing small circles into the sensitive skin. He can hear her moans of approval and she starts to clench around him. He slams into her harder, chasing his own release. Her mouth drops open into a silent o as she comes around him, her arms falling down onto the bed. One more thrust and Bellamy’s spilling out his own release, dropping his head into her shoulder. He breathes in the musky scent of her skin, now slicked with fresh sweat. Bellamy sees the small blonde hairs clinging to her shoulders in small curls.

Bellamy rolls over, plopping down onto the bed next to her. Clarke lays there, her breathing labored as her orgasm washes over her. She looks over at the man to her right, his own chest heaving as he lies back with his eyes shut. Clarke revels in the warmth of him seeping into her side where his skin is inches away from hers before sitting up. She stands, already in search of her clothes, when she hears a deep voice behind her.

“Much more satisfying, right?” Bellamy smirks. He can see the woman roll her eyes and his teeth show as he laughs, a smile replacing his smirk.

Clarke is back in her workout clothes within a few minutes. 

“Well, this was fun,” she says, turning back around to face Bellamy, who is sitting on his bed in his workout shorts, bare chest still gleaming with sweat.

 _Maybe we should do it again, sometime_ , stays in his throat as he just nods back at her.

Clarke looks at the door before turning back to him, “I’ll just let myself out.”

***

Bellamy takes a shower after she leaves. He strips his bed, throws the sheets in the washer before sauntering into his small kitchen looking for something to eat. As he’s leaning against the island eating his omelet, Bellamy sees a small piece of paper on the edge of the countertop.

“I’m at the gym every Sunday at 11 if you want to ‘workout’ again. –C”

Bellamy curses as he realizes she never told him her name. And by the look on her face afterwards, _he totally earned it_.

Underneath that stupid little _C_ , the note reads, “P.S. Maybe you’ll earn the rest of it next time.”

Bellamy has never been one to back down from a challenge.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for the anon prompt: "Could you please do a second part to that Bellarke working out one. Where he learns her name. Thanks!"
> 
> bellamy gets her name, in the locker room of the gym

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's a little short and un-beta'd, but i hope you like it :))

Her back presses up against the cool tile of the gym locker room, the chilled surface in harsh contrast to her heated skin. Bellamy is settled below her, kneeling on the towel he had hanging around his neck when he first walked in. His hands are wandering up her thigh, barely there touches that drive her insane. When he reaches the hem of her shorts, Bellamy tugs, dragging the material down her thighs until it’s pooled at her feet and she kicks them away. 

Clarke eyes shut, her head against the tile behind her as Bellamy leans into her. His nose brushes the material of her underwear, a soft pressure against her. Clarke swears under her breath as Bellamy inhales deeply, breathing her in. His warm breath fans over her upper thighs as he breathes out. His hands stroke up and down the back of her thighs before Bellamy pulls her underwear down. Clarke hisses as her bare ass, now exposed, presses into the tile. 

They’ve never done this before and the thought sends shivers up Clarke’s spin. Okay, so they hooked up a few times, usually after their separate workouts. Clarke walked by him, a quick, “Meet you in 5,” and they’re back at his place again. And there was that one night that she texted him to see if he was busy and he wasn’t (until she came over, at least). But today Bellamy’s quick nod towards the locker room had Clarke getting off her machine and running in after him. That’s when he backed her up into the nearest shower stall and got on his knees.

Bellamy has been waiting to do this ever since their first fuck at his place, when she grabbed his hair with a promise of _next time_. But then a next time never came, all of their hook ups too frantic and heated, Clarke begging him for _more_ , that she needed him _now_. He took her by surprise, avoiding their normal routine. Bellamy relished in the small gasp that left her lips as he pushed her back into the wall, claiming her neck with his teeth before trailing down her body.

Bellamy’s hands move back up her legs, pushing her legs apart as he goes. Clarke’s hand reaches out in front of her, her fingers finding his dark curls, twisting in. She looks down at him just in time to see him lean forward into her, his tongue sweeping across her center, heavy and even. His tongue circles her before settling on her clit. Clarke can feel a flush rush into her face and down her chest at the sounds Bellamy is making with his tongue against her.

When Bellamy begins sucking at her clit, one of his hands pressing her back into the wall at her hip, Clarke has to place her hands onto his shoulders to keep her balance. They’ve been using the shower running a few stalls over to drown out their noise, hoping no one can hear them in the last stall in the locker room. But Clarke’s becoming more vocal as Bellamy sucks harder, one of his hands caressing the inside of her thigh.

Bellamy stops sucking to lick up her slit again and Clarke lets out a low moan that she wasn’t able to stifle. He removes the hand at her hip to lightly slap at the side of her ass. Clarke looks down at him, bewildered and dazed, and Bellamy pulls away to press a finger to his lips, telling her to quiet down. Clarke is exasperated by the insane smirk hiding behind his finger, _smug bastard_. She just grabs his hair in her hand and pulls him back where she wants him. He chuckles against her and Clarke curses, surely causing him to smirk once again.

Bellamy’s tongue is still working at her, long, thick strokes across her, causing Clarke to whine, her legs shaking underneath her. Bellamy spans his hands across her hipbones, pressing her firmly into the wall to make sure she doesn’t fall. Clarke’s hands tighten around Bellamy’s shoulders, her fingers knotting into the material of his shirt. Clarke whimpers as Bellamy pulls away to blow on her clit, dragging the tip of his tongue across it a few seconds later.

Clarke feels a pull in the deep of her belly as Bellamy begins sucking at her clit in earnest, determined to make her come with only his mouth. Just as her hand snakes into his hair, pulling almost painfully, the water from the running shower turns off. Undeterred, either because he doesn’t care or hasn’t noticed, Bellamy keeps going. He looks up at Clarke to see her panicked but desperate for the release that’s literally _right there_.

She clamps one of her hands over her mouth, leaving Bellamy responsible for keeping her upright, stifling the moans tumbling out. Bellamy presses into her as he tries to hold her in place and Clarke cries in her palm as she comes. Her shoulders hunch over and Bellamy licks at her once more, lapping her up, before pulling away to brace his arms against her. He’s still kneeling, placing soft kisses on her stomach as she comes down. Bellamy puts her shorts back on and Clarke slides down the wall to the ground, sitting down in front of him. 

“Clarke,” her voice is small and breathless.

“What?” Bellamy is looking at her, but her eyes are still hooded and he’s not sure if she can see the confusion on his face.

“My name, it’s Clarke.” She opens her eyes in time to see the grin that spread across his face, blinding bright and too big. Even if the orgasm wasn’t worth it (and it _was_ ), that smile is payment enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm on [tumblr](http://clarkeslight.tumblr.com), feel free to drop in and say hi

**Author's Note:**

> let me know what you thought!!! i really hope you guys liked it :))
> 
> feel free to chat (and/or send in any prompts) over on [tumblr](http://clarkeslight.tumblr.com)!


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